I Know It's You
by Bliinkk
Summary: A year ago, Ichigo Kurosaki died. Rukia still cries for him, Renji's depressed... Until someone shows up in Karakura that freakishly ressembles him, but claims to be someone else... T because I'm paranoid WARNING! HETEROSEXUALITY!...and some slash  :


** I know I only have one chapter of TTWBF but I felt such an urge to post this~ I've been drowning in this fucking idea for ages and now~ Here it is ^^**

**And guys, it's in the ichigo rukia filter because those are the main characters, not because they get together, stop complaining. They're what's mainly in this particular story, not a couple... Well, haha, the****y might be later ^^**

_ I can hear you smile in the dark  
I can even feel you breathing  
When the daylight chases the ghost  
I see your coat & I fall apart  
To those hints of you I'm clinging  
Now's when I need them most  
I should get up, dry my eyes & move ahead  
**At least that's what he would have said...**_

The house... it felt so cold, so empty. The dust on the walls was thick, and blew across the floor whenever wind made it's way into the house through cracks in the walls. Doors blown by that very wind creaked and tittered, barely moving, but echoing throughout the entire house. It was unnerving, and made whoever was dumb enough to come in run out just as quickly.

But...

In the furthest bedroom on the second floor, in the closet that housed it's own bed, was a girl. She sat there silently, remembering when she slept there, when someone else slept there, when that someone hadn't been...

Tear tracks marred her smooth skin, and stained the bed. She hugged herself, trying to keep in the sobs.

This was what she did, when she thought about him. She just cried for him. Cried because she lost him, couldn't protect him. She cried because she had never once gotten the chance to tell someone she loved them, and the person she couldn't protect had left without knowing.

Not that it was their fault.

Because it was hers.

Quick hiccups and painful gasps made their selves known as she cried, sitting there in that dark, dusty, old closet. One thought, one name, rang throughout her head and touched every ounce of everything she had left within her, that one name echoed through every tear that fell to the dust below her, settling into it and forming a muddy grit on the cotton.

'Ichigo...'

She dug the heel of her dirty hands into her eyes, desperate to rid them of the tears. 'I'm so sorry, I couldn't...' Couldn't even finish the thought... She remembered. Everything.

_~FLASHBACK~_

_It was raining, the pittering of water outside the building was deafening in the silence that had the room's occupants drowning, desperate for something to alleviate the gaping tension. A young man with blinding orange hair sat cross legged on the floor staring with hard tea colored eyes at the vilest man he'd ever had the displeasure of seeing. The man's brown hair hung in dirty strands in his face. His arms were held back and chained behind him, and his knees were blistered from supporting his weight for such a long period of time, being disallowed to stand._

_"Aizen..."_

_The man look__ed up and the other, eyes insane and brimmed with hatred. "Kurosaki..."_

_Ichigo reached forward and pushed the hair out of his face, gripping it and pulling the brunette up to look him dead in the eyes. "It's over. Give up the Hogyoku(sp?)."_

_Aizen spat in the red-head's face._

_Ichigo growled and made to slam the man down into the hard floor that blistered him, when a hand gripped his shoulder. "Ichigo... don't."_

_The red head nodded, putting his own hand on Rukia's smaller one. "Sorry..." He smiled, before the small gesture disappeared and he turned back to the man who, in all honesty, looked like a giant condom._

_"You can either give it up, or we can pull it out... and the second option is pretty fucking painful, Aizen." Ichigo growled at the older man, still gripping at his hair and holding his head steady._

_"It's mine! I deserve it! You all are pathetic, what do you know about anything?" Aizen seethed, struggling. "I'm making a new world, a new society, free of all this corruption! I'm-_

_A harsh popping s__ound resounded throughout the entire blank room as a set of knuckles sent Aizen to the floor. Ichigo's calm face and blazing eyes stared down at the form with pity and disgust. The people surrounding the pair eyed them with impatience and interest._

_"I don't need a lecture, Aizen. I've heard it before." He turned to Kurotsuchi, the latter of whom was absolutely elated at the prospect of dissecting the traitor. "Captain, Do whatever the fuck you want." The red head stole one last glance at the mental brown eyes that looked at him with such loathing and sighed, running his fingers through his soft oddly colored hair._

_"Okay... I'm going home, tired of this bullshit..." He muttered, turning his back on the other._

_And that was all the other needed._

_With a raw scream, the man yanked one bloody hand free, ripping the tendons that connected his thumb to his hand in the process of slipping them from their shackles, and lurched forward. Startled, nobody reacted in time._

_Rukia didn't react in time._

_Ichigo didn't react at all..._

_In one swift, sic__keningly graceful movement, Aizen's hand embedded itself in Ichigo's chest, impaling the direct spot his heart would've been..._

_Had it not been slowly slipping from Aizen's hand, before falling to the floor with a resounding but anticlimactic flat squishing thunk._

_It was as if time stopped. Tea colored eyes watched forward, looking into violet black before dulling, the lids falling halfway, like Ichigo was just too tired to close them all the way. Having brought his arms halfway up in surprise, the limbs flopped to his side, though desperately trying to reach toward another. He coughed, staring with pleading, tired eyes to... something. He coughed one last time, before his entire body slumped backward._

_The brunette whose hand had done this damage was laughing madly behind the 'body', eyes crazed and disgustingly happy._

_Time moved again._

_Rukia fell forward and screamed, while Renji roared and ran toward them, tears brimming in his eyes as he swung Zabimaru as hard as he could, the blade wedging into the brunette's neck. The laughing stopped, but Renji didn't. Even as the two bodies fell, he continued to pull his sword back and bring it down once more, sobbing as pieces of the traitor flung across the room, and all over the remaining redhead._

_Nobody stopped h__im._

_~END FLASHBACK~_

A year ago exactly, and she still cried for him. This... this was the day he died. His soul died, and he couldn't pass on. She failed him. She let him die. She had been there, and-

She froze as she heard a key turn in the lock downstairs. No. Nobody had lived here since Ichigo died. Maybe... maybe Isshin was moving back? No... they were gone. Unable to stand living here when everything reminded them of their brother and son.

So who would be coming inside, and dropping bags on the floor? She heard a soft sigh, sound traveling easily in the empty house, followed by steady and not-too-heavy footsteps making their way up the stairs. Rukia's eyes widened and she scooted into the far corner, holding her breath as Ichigo's door opened.

"Nice room..." Muttered a disturbingly familiar voice. Rukia gasped when she felt their spiritual pressure, her entire chest aching as if someone had plunged a knife into her lungs and twisted it. Not thinking, she let a sob escape her, hearing the other person's breath catch, and then weary footsteps toward the closet. there was no way...

No way...

As the door slid open, Rukia cried out, darting forward and latching onto the persons neck, ignoring the startled yell. Falling to the ground, she wrapped herself in his chest and cried.

"Ichigo! Oh my God, I thought... I'm so glad you're here... I missed you so much..." She sobbed into the warm thin chest that she was sure she remembered.

"Erm... Little girl? Why were you in a closet? What's wrong?" Ichigo's voice melted her ears, it made her heart swell with love and relief at hearing his humming, low voice again.

But then the words registered.

She looked up to give him a questioning glance but got lost in the most amazing blue she'd ever seen. It was almost white, like ice, but was soft and warm and brimmed with concern, undertones of shock and weariness still lingering in their paradoxic liquid depths. One glance and it was like drowning. She reached up and ran a hand through his soft orange hair. "Why are your eyes blue?"

"They... they've always been blue." He said, confused. It was kind of weird, you realize, that as he walked into his bedroom, a little girl jumped out of his closet and cried at him.

"No." She said dazedly, letting her hand fall to his cheek. "They were brown before. what's going on... Ichigo...?"

He gently pushed her hand away. "I don't know who that is, but I'm not him... I'm Ichiru, Yagari Ichiru... I just moved back form America-Why were you in my closet?" He deadpanned, standing and pulling her up.

She shook her head. "No. No no no no. You're Ichigo. You look just like him! This is his room, why are you here if-

"I bought this house because I couldn't find any others. I've lived in America for a year, and then-" He shrugged, as if that were really it.

"Ichigo-

"Ichiru."

Rukia huffed. "Ichiru, You don't underst- wait... what?" she blinked. Ichiru looked at her like she was insane, which she very well might have been, and repeated himself. Rukia's eyes glittered. "That's it! You've been in America!" She squeeled. "I can't wait to tell Renji! He'd been so depressed since you died, but you didn't really die, you just-

"Lady-

"-went to America! It's so simple! Wait why were you in America? Wh-

"LISTEN!" And there was silence.

Ichiru dropped his head into one hand, rubbing the bridge of this nose. "I really don't know what you're talking about, who Ichigo is, who renji is. I have a seriously fucked up case of jet lag and would really appreciate sleep right now, okay? So if you would get out, That'd be pretty cool."

Rukia stared at him, mouth slightly agape. "Ichigo-

"That isn't my name." He said softly. "Please go home."

She looked down, toeing the floor with a sock covered foot. "I... This is where I sleep. When Ichigo was here, I lived with him..."

"Oh?" Ichiru blinked. "You two were lovers..."

"No!" Rukia said quickly, blushing madly. "I-I just... I had nowhere else, so I stayed here..." She wouldn't go back to the soul society. Ever. That was where... But he didn't die, right. He was in front of her, he just didn't remember...

Ichiru sighed, turning around and pulling his shirt over his head, causing Rukia's blush to deepen. He pulled a blanket out of the forgotten bag he'd brought and flopped onto the bed, laying it over him. After a moment, he turned around, their eyes locking. He seemed conflicting, staring her down with that icy warm gaze. After a moment, he sighed again.

"Just tonight."

Rukia grinned.

"Tonight."

_-I'm choking on the words I didn't get to say-_

* * *

Ichiru groaned sleepily as the light from his bedside window seeped through his lashes, turning the black behind his lids a sharp red. He moved to turn over, but stiffened when he felt another person in his path. Looking down, there was a black haired girl wrapped happily in his blankets, muttering in her rest. It took moment, but then Ichiru remembered.

"Ichigo, huh?" He thought outloud. That was what she called him, right? The name sent a tingle through the back of his skull, like an itch he couldn't reach. His brow creased in confusion at the small sensation. His ice-like eyes flashed briefly before a light enveloped his senses; an image, of that girl... What?

_"You... you kicked me! But I can't be seen by ordinary humans... Are you saying you can see me?"_

He clutched his forehead... and heard his own voice.

_"well, considering that was my foot I just planted in your ass, you tell me!"_

He gasped, looking over to the black haired girl who slept so peacefully beside him, before the light returned.

_"You were the one I saw in town earlier! I remember!"_

_"Boy, nothing gets by you.."_

_"How very strange... you look normal, but you must be defective in some way..."_

Defective?

_"I'll show you defective!" He heard himself growl. He saw himself kick at the girl, before she dodged and jumped up, kicking his head forward. _

_"Who are you?" He asked._

_"You want to know? W__ell then I'll tell you." She said. "I am a Soul Reaper."_

The light disappeared and he sat still for a long moment. What... had that been? Soul Reaper?

He watched the girl beside him, more confused than ever. These flashes, of light-memories? They were getting more frequent. That's why he had come here-come _back_? Karakura town... The name was floating just above his thoughts all the time. The only thing he had ever known, though, was America; even more specific, Moscow. The past year there was all he knew. Other than that... his mind was void.

He had been told he was Yagari Ichiru.

He had been told of his destiny.

What a hollow was, and that they were _his_.

Questions floated through his thoughts for who knew how long. Most of them were about what he had been told.

Follow his memories, and he'd find home.

Go to a place called the Hollow World, to another palace called _Night_- His thoughts were cut off as a small murmur came from the girl beside him. A blearly violet eye fluttered open and imediately locked onto Ichiru. Rukia smiled.

"Hey Ichigo."

Ichiru sighed.

"That's not my name."

He kicked off from the bed with a yawn, not looking back at his room's other occupant. As he stretched, he kicked his closet door open and surveyed his clothes. What to wear, what to wear... He sighed and reached into his closet, pulling back a white, fitting TH T-shirt, and some grey skinny pants. Rukia looked questioningly at the T-shirt, not ever having heard of Tokio Hotel, but said nothing.

"When are you leaving?" Ichiru asked quietly, looking back at her with his clothes bundled in his hands. The question caught Rukia by surprise.

"I... What?"

"When are you leaving?" He repeated blankly. She just looked at him, confused, until he sighed and walked out of the door and into the bathroom. "Whatever, stay here all damn day if you want. I'm heading out."

This took her by surprise. "Where are you going?"

"School."

...

Shit.

_-Faithfully, I trace your name while you sleep... It's the only true comfort I feel...-_

* * *

"That's... nice, Orihime."

"Isn't it?" The busty girl giggled. Orihime held up a picture of some God awful unidentifiable creature she had drawn for class, smiling for all the world like she's won an award. Tatsuki had just facepalmed, knowing the teacher would reprimand the red head for straying from their topic. They were supposed to draw another person from their class, and finish it today. Tatsuki had failed an attempt at drawing Mizuiro, but decided she would turn it in anyway.

"It's certainly very... original, Orihime." Ishida put in, pushing up his glasses. (Duh)

The red head preened at the kind-of-compliment, drawing her picture back to look at it once more. She was indeed very proud of it, especially since it had been drawn at the last minute. Of course, her original drawing had been of an old friend, and past love, her Ichigo. Indeed, she had been the one hit hardest by the other redhead's death, and still sometimes slipped into the habbit of thinking he was there, looking forward to showing him his own face the next day...

Her proud smile slipped into a distorted mask of passive acceptance, and everyone knew what she had been thinking.

"P-Please! If you go in there... You don't know what you're doing, they're still upset about-

"I'm sorry... But I'm not this boy you seem so desperate to believe I am. I'm certain I don't look as much like him as you think."

Muffled voices floated in from the hallway, drawing the attention of the group. There were distinguished shadows outside the paper door, one being the obvious short, modest form of one Rukia Kuchiki, the other... disturbingly familiar.

"Listen, boy! I don't know how you did things in America, but here it's different. Our entire freakin' society is pretty much based on respect and-

So the boy was an exchange student? Unable to help themselves, Tatsuki and Keigo scooted closer, while the others merely strained their ears. A boy from America? Of course! His Nippon was... sloppy.

"WI'm sorry, Rukia... For you and your friends, but... It isn't your decision whether or not I should go." With those final words, the paper doors groaned in protest as they were slammed open, revealing shocking orange hair, sharp ice-like eyes... and Rukia.

No one said anything. Every student in the classroom, humans and all, remained silent. Ichiru merely snorted and walked past the gaping croud to a seat near the window, Ichigo's old seat.

No one sat there.

Another few seconds of silence, and a muffled sob found it's way through the room. Orihime's hand covered her mouth as she took in the form of the boy she'd loved so dearly. It was impossible... He was dead. She had seen him die. Now, he sat before her, ignoring her existence, staring out the window as if nothing had happened.

"_Ichigo_..." She whispered.

There were several different reactions, but all were silent. Chad's eyes widened as he took in his best friend, Uryu gaped at the boy, inches from stomping over and demanding he tell them what the fuck was going on, Tatsuki looked close to tears, as did mizuiro, and keigo was already there. Rukia... Rukia walked silently to her seat, far away from Ichiru.

"Kurosaki?" Uryu seethed, growing even more upset when the red head didn't answer.

"Kurosaki!"

Nothing.

"KURO-

"Are you trying to talk to me?" He whispered politely, shifting those eyes from the outside world to the raven haired man in front of him. Uryu looked taken aback at their color, but quickly found himself.

"Yes! Mind telling us all what the fuck is going on? You're supposed to be dead!"

"Did you like that better?" He asked quietly, face betraying nothing. "Would you _rather_ Ichigo is dead? It seems you're quite upset that I'm here... Maybe you were one of the ones that didn't like Ichigo? It makes sense... From what I've heard about him, he sounds brash and annoying... despite the good qualities, I could see why you would want him gone."

Everyone was...shocked, to say the least. What was he saying? Why-

"Ichiru, That's enough... You're hurting them." Rukia whispered from her desk, staring down at the smooth wooden material and refusing to look back up. Ichiru snorted, but showed no amusement.

"They shouldn't assume, midget. You've said yourself that I'm not exactly like him, and this constant having to prove I'm not him is getting irritating. Better they get it now than later."

As they all digested this new information, he took the time to observe the people who were close to this... 'Ichigo.' The three girls he saw could be an advantage, and if he was correct... The orange haired one, and Rukia... were fond of his look-a-like. So it was a simple thing manipulating them. The other one... maybe. She seemed too... something... But no mind, he could still benefit from her. The males were an entirely different story. This black haired fellow was annoying, so waste time on him he wouldn't. The tall one... honestly creeped him out just a smidge, so no luck there... Ah. A small brunet was staring at him with teary, hope-filled eyes. Perhaps he could be of some sort of assistance? He looked like he worshipped the very ground 'Ichigo' walked on.

_"B__e__frien__d his friends..."_

He would.

_"Use his resources."_

He would.

_"Take the Hollow World from them, and become who you are meant to be..."_

That still confused him... Just a little.

The paper doors slid open and a tall man walked in. He wore a soft smile and... dear lord. He had long natural-looking red hair drawn up in a ponytail, a strong set jaw, and almond-shaped, black-rimmed _shocking_ green eyes. He didn't wear a traditional Japanese suit, but a soft white button up and black slacks.

He smiled at the room.

"Good morning, class. I realize I'm not your normal teacher, and that might in fact be because she's... sick. My name is Tom Gauld, and you may address me by the latter. Now, let's begin!" He laughed... loudly, and pulled out a book. "Open yours to page... erm... crap, how do you say the number?"

He struck a pose and pointed to a random girl in the back. She looked frightened.

"You there! You're an aspiring english student! How do you say _five _In Nippon! ?"

Rukia watched, astounded. This was their teacher?_ Him_? He barely knew Japanese and...

He was American.

She turned from the stuttering girl to Ichiru, who was smiling lazily at their sub. He almost looked... no way. Those white blues sparkled with something odd, inappropriate... He stared at the man like he was a freaking God.

Turning back to their teacher, she smiled nervously. This was going to be a long school day.

"Garudo-sensei." She called from the back. Smiling at him, and then Ichiru, she stood.

"It's just Hachi."

**If you're wondering what Mr. Teacher man looks like, I drew him (: Here's the link Just take away teh spaces :D http: / apocolypticsauce. deviantart. com /art/Oc-Sketch-From-FF- 205561069 **


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